


abi me lebt

by eyesonly



Category: Newsies (1992), Newsies - All Media Types, Newsies!: the Musical - Fierstein/Menken
Genre: 1918, Canon Era, Fatherhood, Judaism, M/M, Post canon, Sequel, Update fic, World War I
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-01
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-07-05 15:25:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,938
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15866400
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyesonly/pseuds/eyesonly
Summary: Sequel to "verliebt in dich" - Takes place in 1918, 14 years laterA snapshot in the lives of 1918 Jack and Davey and their new role of being fathers.





	abi me lebt

**Author's Note:**

> I've seen a few fics of Jack and Davey being in WWI, however, they most likely would have been too old to have been in the war itself. The draft cutoff varied between 30 and 35, both of them would have been in their late-30s to early-40s during the war. However, Les would have most definitely been drafted. 
> 
> Anyways, I did my best to keep it pretty historically accurate and culturally sensitive, so welcome to 1918 Javid!

September 1918.

“Aba! You got a letter from Uncle Les!” 

Davey hardly makes it through the door when he is mobbed by the flurry of energy that is the young girl in front of him. He grins brightly at her and nods.

“That’s great, Mira. Let me set my things down and we can take a look at it.”

The little girl bounces on her heels, her shoulder length dark curls bobbing as she impatiently waits. 

“How was school?” Davey asks as he sets down his bags and coat, taking a moment to unbutton his sleeves and roll them up. 

“Fine, we got a new girl in class today. Her name is Shoshana, she said that she came here on a boat and I told her my Aba helps people come off boats so she probably knew you but she said she didn’t and her English isn’t that good but Ruth and I can talk to her in German which Miss Holt didn’t really like but I didn’t care because Papa always told me to help people who are sad and I think Ruth and I made her feel a lot better,” Mira says in a long stream of consciousness, hardly taking a breath.

Davey blinks and lets out a soft breath of a laugh.

“That’s very kind of you, _spatzchen_. I’m sure your new friend appreciated you making her feel welcome here.”

Mira excitedly hands him the letter and pulls him to the kitchen so they can sit and read the letter together. 

“You don’t think we should wait for Papa to get home?” Davey questions as he sits and she jumps into his lap.

“He doesn’t get home until so much later! I want to read it now, Aba!” She whines softly her face falling into a pout.

Davey raises an eyebrow at her before she dramatically leans back into him.

“What if it’s somethin’ important we have to know NOW? Papa will understand!”

Davey rolls his eyes and carefully opens up the letter. He quickly scans over the messy scrawl, making sure everything is appropriate for the seven year old on his lap to hear. He tries not to frown as he skims over the words.

“Aba! Stop cheatin’ and read to me!” She lightly taps at Davey’s arms that surround her. 

“Okay, okay. It says on the front, ‘To David Jacobs, Jack and Miriam Kelly’,” Mira wiggles happily hearing her own name, “Dear everyone, I hope things are going well back home. My unit has been moved closer to the River Somme in France. It’s been difficult but everyone’s spirits are high. There is hope that war will end soon. I can’t wait to get home and see you all. Please tell Mira that I saw the Eiffel Tower and it is even prettier in person than it is in her books. I got a picture but I don’t think it does it justice. I don’t know when this letter will get to you all so in case Yom Kippur has passed, G’mar Hatima Tova. Or if it’s early, then reread this letter on Erev. Either way, I pray for an day of reprieve so we can fast and worship in peace. Also please let Jack and Mira know that I have proudly showed everyone their artwork from the last letter that was sent. I have them hung up in the barracks to brighten the place up. I hope to see you all very soon. Yours, Les.”

Mira grins brightly as Davey reads the letter aloud to her.

“We should tell Uncle Les that Yom Kippur was a couple weeks ago and than we prayed extra for him,” Mira says in all seriousness.

“I’ll be sure to tell him that in our next letter to him,” Davey smiles sadly.

“I’m gonna draw him another picture too,” Mira decides as she jumps off his lap and runs to her room, Davey hearing her dig around in her things. 

She comes back with some scrap pieces of paper and nubs of pencils that Jack gifted to the girl for her birthday months prior. 

Davey gets to making dinner for them, not having the food he once had when working for the World. After working on a story about the lack of transitional help for new immigrants in the city, especially those of Jewish faith, he left his job to work on his true passion of helping others in need.

He had been a cultural and housing liaison at Ellis Island for a few years, working for the Hebrew Immigrant Aid Society, helping new immigrants find housing and showing them where to find houses of worship and others in their community that would help their transition into the new country. 

It didn’t pay as much as being journalist, but it was genuinely a job that he felt like he was giving back to his people.

Jack had continued steelworking for nearly ten years before his age and physical limitations caught up with his still very youthful personality. A booming theatre scene in Manhattan led Jack back to his roots of art and set design, finding himself making and painting beautiful sets made to rival the moving picture shows. The job paid well, but required long hours, and with the war, more pressure was put on the workers to make better shows to keep people in the seats. 

It was nearly eight at night before Jack came home. Davey having already fed himself and Mira who was already washed up in bed. Despite this, Mira was out of her room in a flash as she flung herself onto the older of the two men in the home.

Jack grinned dropping his things and picking her up into his arms.

“Why hello there, darlin’. Innit your bedtime?” He teases, pressing a kiss to her cheek.

“Not until you read me a story,” she counters easily with a grin. 

Jack chuckles brightly as he walks into the living room with her in his arms, Davey reading by the light of a lamp.

“Papa’s home!” Mira announces, as Davey looks up with a smile.

“I can see that, _spatzchen_. Why don’t you fix Papa a plate for dinner and then he can tuck you in for the night?” Davey offers gently as Jack moves into the room.

As soon as Mira wiggles out of Jack’s arms and bounds into the kitchen, Jack gives him a quick chaste kiss, always trying to be intimate away from Mira’s eyes. Never wanting to burden her with keeping their secret.

The simple fact was Mira was neither their daughter. Biologically, she was David’s niece. Legally, Jack was her father. Her true parentage was his sister Sarah and a monster of a man who was to never know of Mira’s existence. 

Once Sarah explained the horrors of the situation, Jack stepped in immediately. It was cover for not only him, but her as well. And to some extent, Davey. 

Jack and Sarah wedded quickly, and not long after announced the pregnancy. Jack’s paternity to Mira and his constant closeness to the Jacobs’ family were never questioned. Jack, Sarah, and Davey all lived together after Mira’s birth. Sarah, nothing but supportive and understanding of the love Jack and Davey shared.

When Sarah died from pneumonia, two years after Mira was born, Jack and Davey were both thrusted into a parental role they never imagined being in.

Of course, his parents and Les were there to help. Along with several honorary uncles, still flabbergasted at the notion of THE Jack Kelly becoming a father.

So they lived together as a father and a caring uncle pseudo-father, looking after Sarah’s sweet Miriam Esther.

“Papa, it’s ready!” 

“Comin’, Mira,” Jack smiles kissing Davey again before going to the kitchen. 

“Papa, did Aba tell you that Uncle Les wrote us?” Mira bounces excitedly as he sits at the warmer plate of food.

“He didn’t! You know how his nose gets stuck in his books,” Jack teases as he begins to eat.

Mira excitedly recounts the letter as Davey comes into join them sitting opposite of Jack as he eats. When he finishes he picks up Mira and carries her to bed, giving her a bedtime story as she falls asleep.

Davey waits and takes the moment to gently hug Jack when he comes back in. Jack holds the taller man for a moment and buries his face in the crook of Davey’s neck. He breathes him in before sighing softly.

“So what was in the letter, you couldn’t tell’er?” Jack asks a little nervously, having recognized the look of sadness from the moment he walked in.

“Les said...that Elmer was killed…” he confides softly, telling him the parts he didn’t share with Mira.

Jack holds him tighter and curses under his breath. 

“I’m going to try to get in touch with the fellas, see if we can get a little collection going for his family?” Davey mumbles into his shoulder.

“That sounds great, Dave,” Jack says softly.

“Les also said they ain’t giving Jews the same medals of recognition as everyone else. Like they can’t get a Medal of Honor or anything, because they’re Jewish.”

“‘Cos they Jewish?” He scoffs incredulously, “What does goin’ to temple or not eatin’ pork have to do with savin’ other people? This whole war is pointless and none of them care about people like us,” Jack rants angrily.

Davey gently squeezes the back of his shoulder.

“Thankfully Les is okay, we just have to keep praying that the war ends soon,” he takes a seat in their modest sofa in their living room.

Jack nods softly, having somewhat adopted some of Davey’s religious practices. Being surrounded by the Jacobs’ family meant he lived the life of someone who was Jewish.

He even was pretty fluent in German and could roughly communicate in Hebrew and Yiddish. While Mira was legally his child, he let Davey lead her parenting. She was Davey’s niece before he was her father, and he wanted Mira to fully know her family’s culture.

“It will, people can only fight over nothin’ for so long before they start gettin’ bored,” Jack sighs settling in the seat next to Davey.

Davey reaches over and takes Jack’s hand. 

“Have you heard from Crutchie?” Davey asks softly.

Jack bites the inside of his lip and shakes his head.

“They’s got a quarantine sign on the lodging house now...too many of the boys got the flu. They told him to leave, save himself. He won’t leave those boys though. The nuns are still bringin’ food, which is good. I’m scared they’ll die of starvin’ before the flu,” Jack says softly.

Davey nods sadly, wanting to cry and mourn but he feels like he’s cried all the tears he can over this pandemic. He had gotten the flu himself, a few months prior. He caught it early and he was lucky that his health was good. A soft rattle in his chest and a lack of stamina were his only reminders, but he considered himself lucky.

Guys like Crutchie didn’t stand a chance and that scared them both.

“The Robels, one of the families I’m working with, their youngest son...he died yesterday night. He caught the flu and they couldn’t even get a doctor to see him…” Davey says moving closer to Jack, resting his head on his shoulder.

Jack wraps an arm around him, “I’m so sorry, Dave.”

“Abi me lebt.”

_At least I’m alive._

“And so is Mira. And Les.”

“And you.”

Jack smiles a little and kisses his temple, “Yeah, me too.”

**Author's Note:**

> Follow me on tumblr @deanogarbage 
> 
> or my newsies blog 
> 
> @walkin-mouth


End file.
